


Alone Together Reprise (My heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broke in)

by xxxintothedarknessxxx



Series: My Body Is An Orphanage (We take everyone in) [3]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxintothedarknessxxx/pseuds/xxxintothedarknessxxx
Summary: Plenty of kids come and go at Neverland. This one might be permanent. But is he family?





	Alone Together Reprise (My heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broke in)

**Author's Note:**

> Pete is 23, Patrick is 17, Andy is 19, Joe is 15/16.

After that summer, Patrick started twelfth grade, Andy got a job in a grocery store and started saving for college, and from that point on, most of the bedrooms were filled. There were kids like Brendon, who needed to stay for a couple months, kids like Spencer, who only needed to crash that one time for a night or two while things died down at home, and kids who moved out in to their own place after a while, like Brent, determined to prove a point or stand on their own two feet. Then there was Joe, who became a permanent fixture in amongst the short stays who came and went, came and went.

It was the middle of fall during Patrick’s gap year, and he had gotten a job in a bookstore. It had also been unseasonably cold that month, even for mid-September, raining like no one’s business and windy as hell (even more than usual for Chicago). He was shelving just a few more books before closing when he came across a boy, crouched in a corner behind an arm chair, asleep. He tapped the guys shoe with his own and he started awake.  
‘We’re uhm, we’re closing in a minute, sorry.’ Geez Patrick, be more awkward.  
‘Ok.’ The kid (he was younger than Patrick at any rate) made no move to leave.  
‘You kind of have to leave.’ Still, he didn’t move. ‘You’re lucky I found you, you nearly got locked in here.’  
‘Was I that obvious?’  
‘What do you mean?’  
‘It’s cold out there, and…’ The kid rubbed his neck awkwardly. Patrick knew that silence.  
‘You have nowhere to go?’ The kid shook his head, embarrassed and said nothing in response.  
‘It’s fine, you can come home with me.’ Joe was a cynic. He didn’t believe in the kindness of strangers. What did bookstore guy want? He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  
‘Not like that. Pete takes people in. Kids with nowhere to go. It’s perfectly safe. I mean, I’m not sure his cooking is, but he hasn’t killed me yet.’ Patrick joked.  
‘There’s nothing safe about going home with a stranger.’  
‘What’s your name? Then we won’t be strangers,’ he says, ever the optimist, ‘I’m Patrick.’ He offers and hand up to the kid, who speaks as he takes it.  
‘Joe.’ Grabbing his rucksack off the floor, Joe follows Patrick out and wonders if he’s about to end up dead when the red-head bookstore clerk leaves him on the porch to go find his brother before bringing Joe inside (thinking that if he introduced them, they wouldn’t be strangers and Joe would be less reluctant to ask for help). Just when he thinks he’ll be left out here all night, a man slightly over Patrick’s height with darker skin and much darker hair emerges, eyes whiskey brown and swathed in eyeliner. Joe had to admit, he was sort of cute. Back in the closet buddy, he won’t let you crash if he thinks you’re into dudes.  
‘Hi. I’m Pete, nice to meet you.’ When he smiled, he was cuter still.  
‘Hey, I’m Joe, Patrick’s stray.’ Joe jokes as he shakes Pete’s hand, wondering if he noticed the lisp Joe was still sensitive about.  
‘Patrick tells me you need a place to stay?’  
‘Yes sir.’ Joe was trying to be polite, but there was no mistaking his lisp now.  
‘Please, call me Pete. Come on in, Joe.’ Joe wiped his shoes on the doormat before following the man in.  
‘Did you want something to drink? Coffee, soda, water?’  
‘Water is fine, thank you.’ Patrick disappeared to get that drink and Pete took Joe into the dining room.  
‘How old are you, Joe?’  
‘Fifteen.’  
‘Well, Patrick here’s the closest to your age, he’s only seventeen, but you seem to already know him, so…’ Pete trailed off like it didn’t really matter.  
‘Actually, I don’t. He found me trying to get locked inside the bookstore tonight and brought me back with him. Said he wasn’t really a stranger if he told me his name.’ Pete couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. That was ‘Trick all over. The sweetest kid Pete knew. Which these days, was saying a lot. They’d had a LOT of kids through here.  
‘That’s some sound logic right there. So, how did you end up here tonight? Sleeping rough?’  
‘Thanks, Patrick. Uh, no sir, not really. ’ He sipped at his water as Patrick sat down next to him, making sure to keep some distance.  
‘Have you been on your own long?’ He didn’t look like he’d been losing weight and while he could probably use a shower, he wasn’t as filthy as some of the kids who’d come through.  
‘Only a couple of days. The first night I crashed on someone’s floor, and last night I slept on someone’s porch.’  
‘In the rain? It was freezing!’ Pete was shocked. Who’d let a kid sleep outside on the porch, especially in weather like they’d been having?  
‘Where are your parents, kid?’ Pete expected mixed results when asking about the family, but Joe’s response floored him.  
‘Who’s porch do you think I slept on?’ For a moment it didn’t compute. How was Pete supposed to guess that? He didn’t know this kid. Then it hit. 

‘You didn’t just get locked out, did you?’ Did he mean by accident, or like Joe just didn’t have his keys when his dad was chasing him out of the house, threatening to ‘pound the living shit’ out of him, and he ‘fucking better not come back’? Or did he mean the locksmith’s been called to change the locks? Either way, Joe’s face told Pete all he needed to know. His face rearranged into something akin to understanding, tinged with a little bit of anger.  
‘Uhm, sort of? I mean, he hasn’t changed the locks or anything, but I didn’t have my key and nobody’s allowed to let me in.’ Joe said that like not changing the locks somehow mitigated his dad leaving him out in the cold.  
‘What happened?’  
‘I couldn’t stay there that night. I had to get out of there. I thought it would only be for one night, but then my mom brought my clothes and told me it might be better if I didn’t come home for a while. It’s not her fault, really,’ Joe’s dad had spent half his life up to that point standing over Joe’s mom. ‘But I didn’t want to be where I was for another night, so I tried to come home.’ He’d been camped out on a mattress on somebody’s floor, and the mattress was the cleanest thing there. His skin itched just thinking about the place and that was the first time he realized there might be a lot of nights like this. As though all those nights he’s spent on the porch already weren’t rough enough.  
‘He didn’t let you in.’  
‘Oh, he did,’ Joe started, ‘Five minutes to get my toothbrush and a jacket, then,’ then, he’d chased Joe out and slammed the door behind him ‘I heard him yelling at my family that no one lets me in, or…’  
‘Or what?’ Pete had had this conversation enough times to know what.  
‘Nothing. He’d just yell at them.’ Probably. More likely he’d backhand his brother (who’d never stand up to him in the first place) or choke slam his mom into a wall. Being homeless seemed like a small price to pay to protect her, considering everything she’d taken for his and his brother’s sake. He’d just have to harden up. He was nearly sixteen, he was old enough to get by without his mom. He hoped.  
‘That’s a lot to deal with. Sorry that happened. Whatever it was that made your dad do that, was probably not even your fault. You seem like a good kid. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you want. We can talk details later.’ Patrick noticed Joe was growing uncomfortable sitting there. He’d really opened up. Probably out of sheer desperation, like the night in the basement of the shoebox building where Andy had bared his soul.  
‘Did you want a shower before dinner? The bathrooms upstairs, second door on the left. There’s clean towels on the rack. Leave your clothes in the hamper and I’ll wash ‘em for you tonight.’ Patrick, though, didn’t relish the thought. That hamper was full of Andy’s sweaty workout gear. Still, it was his turn on laundry, so. Joe nodded and turned away, grabbing his bag off the floor again.  
‘Where is Andy anyway?’ Patrick asked, noticing a distinct lack of drumming for this time of the evening. The house had been kind of empty for a little while (Patrick never thought at 14 when he was out on his own that one day, a house of three would feel this empty), but usually there was music to be heard.  
‘Some human rights rally downtown. I was supposed to be going but I got busy here. He’s staying with Matt tonight while he’s in town.’  
Pete stood up to start dinner, preparing a small roast with Patrick’s help and putting it in the oven before disappearing into his office. After a short while, Joe emerged from the bathroom, cleaner, more comfortable, and still clutching his bag.  
‘Oh, hey, let me show you to a room. I’ll put you downstairs where it’s quiet.’ He got Joe set up in a bedroom. ‘Dinner will be ready in half an hour. I’ll be around if you need anything.’ And with that Joe had a moment to assess the situation. He couldn’t go home, but he was able to stay here. They seemed like nice enough guys, and Patrick implied that they did this sort of thing all the time. People wouldn’t be coming here for help if Pete was some kind of an asshole or a creep. 

Then dinner was ready and he was shook out of his thoughts by Pete apologizing for disappearing.  
‘Sorry about that, I’ve been on the phone all day talking to the kids. I’ve been getting letters home from school,’ Pete rolled his eyes. He had very little patience for some of the teachers’ complaints. Who cared if Tom is growing his beard out, or if William wore a crop top to class? It wasn’t against the dress code of either of their schools. ‘Hayley said to tell you hi, that she’s totally still on for that zombie movie marathon this weekend and to warn you that she’s bringing over sugartits-the hamster-‘ Pete clarified for Joe’s sake because that sounded like a stripper’s name ‘because her building’s being fumigated.’ Joe had no clue who Hayley was, but she sounded like fun. Judging by Patrick’s grin, he agreed.  
‘Hayley used to live here. You’re in her room actually. None of the other kids live here anymore, except for Andy, but Pete leaves his details on their records so they can still go to school and deals with their teachers and report cards.’ Patrick explained. Joe thought that was nice of him, and if he’s willing to do that for them all, he mustn’t be too bad of a man.

Pete still called them all to check in every fortnight or so. Some more or less than the others, depending on the specifics of their situation. Some called him a social worker (he wasn’t), others called him a friend. Patrick called him ‘brother’ and to Andy, he was family. But to him, they were his kids, and he loved them all, forever reminding someone that that didn’t stop just because they moved out, or even in some cases, went home. Brendon and Spencer were the lucky ones, and Pete had done everything in his power to make things easy for them going back. 

Joe guessed that explained the ‘Neverland’ sign above the door. Again, the labeling of Pete’s abode had been done by Antonio, not long before he brought Hayley to their door. She’d been late to work, again, and he’d been upset.  
‘Hayley, this is the third time this week you’ve been late.’  
‘I know, Antonio, I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m working two jobs and I’d rather be late to this one than leave that one early. They’re not half an understanding as you are.’  
‘Two jobs? You should be in school, hermana.’  
‘Yeah, I know, but school doesn’t exactly pay the rent.’  
‘Rent? You’re sixteen.’ She’d spilled her guts and the next thing she knew, she was being brought to a guy called Peter Pan.  
‘Peter Pan? That sounds like a serial killer.’  
‘He works a different shift, which is why you never met him. This is what he does. The rent will be paid and you can still go to school.’ They waited at the door. When it swung open and they were brought inside to introduce her to the family, something clicked about the sign above her head.  
‘So, if you’re Peter Pan, and this place is Neverland, does that make you the Lost Boys?’ Patrick, Andy and Brendon nodded, even Spencer who was back visiting. ‘Cool. Guess I’m Wendy.’ The boys all cracked up and then someone realized they had to figure out a room for her. They’d never had a girl stay here before. In the end, Andy gave up his room so she could have some distance from all these boys she didn’t know and took the last one upstairs next to Pete. 

‘That’s pretty cool of you guys. The way you just keep looking after them once they leave.’  
‘This family is like the mafia,’ Pete jokes, ‘once you’re in, you’re here forever.’ Joe found himself actually smiling for the first time in days. He slept almost peacefully on a mattress with sheets and a room with a lock, and thought maybe he could be happy here. 

That all totally changed the next morning when he was sitting in his room, digging through his bag and assessing his belongings. $4.50 in change. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken that $20 taxi to where he crashed the other night and spent almost $6 on takeout. Though, what else would he have eaten? His mom bought him some lunch and then sent him away with some snacks, but that was after he spent 18 hours in that god-awful apartment.

He had 3 clean pairs of underwear, 3 pairs of socks, 3 t-shirts, and his jacket. Also a set of sweats, the sneakers he’d been wearing that did not keep the rain out (now stuffed with newspaper sitting in a sunlit patch on his floor with the window open in hopes of drying them out) and a pair of flip flops in case he found someplace to shower. There was one more t-shirt, the pair of pants he wasn’t currently wearing and a set of underwear and socks in the laundry of this house where strangers had taken him in. 

In the smaller section of his bag was his mobile and charger, his toothbrush and a leaky pen. He was startled by a knock on the open door and reached in for his pocket knife before realizing that if someone wanted to hurt him, they weren’t going to ask to come in. He dropped it and removed his hand from the bag. 

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to introduce you. Joe, this is Andy, he’s been here forever. He might actually be older than this house. Andy, this is Joe, he’s gonna crash for a while.’  
‘Nineteen is not old!’ Andy responded to Patrick, ‘Nice to meet you, Joe. Think you’ll be sticking around? I wasn’t sure at first either, but these guys are family now.’  
‘You too. Uh, probably. I don’t know if I’ll be going home any time soon.’ He’d probably have to turn straight for that. Speaking of which, it was a minor miracle that Joe could speak to this guy properly and look him in the eye. He was gorgeous. Long wavy hair, deep eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses, which made him look wise, not old. The way he kept pulling his lip ring into his mouth…Joe would like to pull that lip ring into his mouth. What was he thinking? He was supposed to be playing straight! What would happen to him if someone here found out he was gay? 

‘That sucks, but the people here tend to become your family. Take it from someone who had no family left when they arrived, and now considers themselves the brother of many: There are plenty of people who care.’ And that was all the mush you’d be getting from Andy Hurley, thank you. This particular brand of sensitivity was part of the initiation package ONLY.  
‘I’m not sure what family I still have.’ Joe said. Until he could talk to one of them, he had no idea if his dad’s ban extended to giving a shit about him in general.  
‘If they’re alive, there’s hope. I’ve seen it more than once.’ He had, and so had Patrick.  
‘Yeah, it’s totally not over ‘til it’s over.’ Patrick had recently reached out to his mom and dad. Things were awkward but not world ending. He just didn’t need them as much as he once did. Pete’s parents, on the other hand, said there was a reason they’d cut ties and that maybe it should stay that way. That hadn’t been a good couple of weeks. But it HAD been more words than they’d said to him in the last five years, so…there was hope, as far as they were concerned.  
‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’ Joe tried to sound hopeful as Patrick left with the excuse of emptying out the dryer.  
‘So, there’s a few little things you should know. One, you’ll wake up to hear Pete leave for a few nights, but then you’ll get used to it and won’t wake up anymore. Two, I hope you like people. There’s always kids stopping by, but none of them live here right now. Three, Pete doesn’t like violence. You might consider handing in the knife you’ve got stashed in that bag.’ Joe looked at Andy incredulously, how could he possibly have known?  
‘I’ve been watching your body language. You reached for something when I knocked and you won’t let go of that bag. Your hands are turning white with pressure.’ Joe looked down. They were too. Wait, Andy had been paying attention to him? ‘I know a kid with a knife when I see one. I pulled a switchblade on Pete once.’  
‘What?’ This cute guy was a knife-wielding maniac? Figures.  
‘I’d been sleeping rough for months, and it didn’t take long to work out that nobody fucks with the guy with a knife,’ Joe nodded, understanding the logic. ‘But no-one’s fucking with you here.’ The look he gave was so sincere and warm and Joe felt he could trust him almost immediately. ‘Welcome to the orphanage, kid.’ 

Yeah, remember what he said about maybe being happy here? Meeting Andy, there was no way in hell. This guy could see right through him. It wouldn’t be long until he worked out Joe’s interest in dudes wasn’t exactly platonic and then he’d probably be out on his ass again. Speaking of ass, Joe was enjoying the view as Andy walked away. He shook his head. Stop being such a perv Trohman. He’s not gay, he’d probably throw you out if he knew you are and he’s never going to like you back. Don’t be such a creep.  
‘Hey, Andy?’ The older man turned around at the door, resting a hand on the door jamb. God that was a handsome man. He’d just have to avoid the guy from now on.  
‘Yeah?’  
‘Thanks.’ Andy smiled and walked away. 

After Pete and Patrick fell asleep cuddling on the couch again that night, Joe wondered if they were together. Sure, Pete’s maybe a little old for Patrick, but then it wouldn’t be a huge deal if they found out about him. He found an opportunity to bring it up to Patrick.  
‘What? No. He’s my brother. No, really, he adopted me. Sort of.’ The papers weren’t real, but they might as well have been. There’d been an incident at Patrick’s school about 4 months into their living arrangement that had spooked them pretty badly. 

Patrick had come home late from school upset and had gone to his room without so much as a word to Pete, and hadn’t eaten dinner. He’d finally emerged to shower and then had dropped onto the couch next to Pete.  
‘Sorry I was late Pete. I had after-school detention.’  
‘What for?’ That wasn’t like him at all.  
‘One of my teachers was talking about slavery and human trafficking in class and asked for examples. I said ‘child sex trafficking in modern-day America’ and she told me that stuff doesn’t happen here, so I said-Oh, god, Pete I fucked up, I really fucked up!’ Pete was more than a little concerned. Patrick really didn’t swear.  
‘What, Patrick, what did you say?’ He tried to keep a measured tone.  
‘I told her about Nate and Alex, you know, from Wyoming? I asked her when the last time was that she stood on a street corner at three in the morning, and watched a pimp beat up a child for not making enough money from the men who raped and fed drugs to them. I told her I had.’ Oh shit. Shitshitshit. That was bad, that was very, very bad.  
‘What did she say?’  
‘That I was being crude and subversive and making stuff up. Then she gave me after-school detention for the rest of the month. After class she kept me in to ask about my home life. I told her I live with my brother, and my parents aren’t around. I think she wants a meeting with you. Worse though, is the kids. They’re calling me ‘Patty the Prostitute’. They probably think they’re being funny, but what if they find out?’  
‘Damn right she’s gonna have a meeting with me. You’re not getting detention for being right, just because the truth is ugly. She can’t do that. Trust me, the kids don’t know shit. Teenagers can just be assholes, that’s all.’  
‘Pete, maybe I should just wear it. It’s only a week and a half. If you explain that I’m right, you’re gonna have to explain a whole lot more than that, too and they might think you’re my pimp or something. They could call someone! Those documents won’t hold up under any sort of scrutiny, and they’ll split us up. You could go to jail.’  
‘Patrick, I promise you. No one’s going anywhere. I’m not going to jail and no one’s going to take you away from me, okay? I’ll sort it, I swear. But you’re still not going to cop to those accusations. You were right, and I’m going to make her see that. Tell her you have a religious thing after school, ward meetings or youth group or something. She can’t keep you back from that. I’ll go in and talk to her by the end of the week and we’ll sort this all out, okay?’ Patrick nodded and burrowed in to Pete’s sweater.  
He’d called his documents guy as soon as Patrick fell asleep on him.  
‘Hey, Zack speaking.’  
‘Hall, how are you man?’ There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line.  
‘What can I do for you, Pete?’  
‘I need documents.’  
‘I got you your documents, they’re fine so long as you don’t let anyone-‘  
‘Hold them up to an infrared, yeah I know. But that’s not enough. I need adoption papers.’  
‘For a dog?’ Clearly he wasn’t getting it.  
‘For Patrick. They need to be fucking infallible.’ Zack whistled sharply.  
‘That won’t be cheap.’  
‘I don’t care, just make it happen.’  
‘I can get them to you by Monday.’  
‘MONDAY?!’ Patrick stirred. Pete stroked his hair and hoped he didn’t wake up. He didn’t need to know Pete was worried. He dropped his voice to a near whisper.  
‘Monday? It could be too late by then. I’m half expecting CPS to knock on my door any minute.’ Zack sighed. This was going to be expensive, for him. He’d have to call in every favor he’s owed to get shit like that in no time at all.  
‘Friday.’  
‘Morning?’  
‘Afternoon.’  
‘Thank you. I owe you for this.’  
‘Just in case, I’d work on the sob story and start compiling personal references from your neighbors and boss. But, do whatever you can to stall. I’m on it.’  
‘Thank you.’ Pete said more sincerely.  
‘Thank me when you see the invoice.’ Zack hung up. Pete didn’t care what it was going to cost. Anything to protect this kid. 

By Friday afternoon he’d organized the meeting.  
‘You’re right in thinking I’m not his brother. I’m his father.’ She of course hadn’t believed him. ‘He was living in a motel with no family to speak of so I adopted him and here’s the proof. I thought it would be easier for him if we said we were brothers, but now he has teachers questioning the legitimacy of his family and asking him to dredge up his past to prove what exactly? That’s he a healthy, happy kid now? All because he made some valid points that you disagreed with? Forget the kids calling him names. The only bully I see here is you.’  
She’d agreed that claiming brotherhood seemed like the best thing for Patrick and apologized for wasting his time on the matter.  
‘Still though, he argued with me in class.’  
‘Because he can attest to the things he saw. Just because you never saw them doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. I haven’t seen a guy get shot dead, that doesn’t mean people don’t get shot dead.’  
‘He was crude.’  
‘He was blunt.’  
‘He described-‘  
‘I know what he described. Do you know what it took for him to relive that trauma and participate in the class discussion? I can only imagine how terrified he must have been watching it happen in the first place. I’ll talk with him about toning it down in class, but it hardly deserves to be punished.’ She relented and apologized for that too, saying Patrick was excused from all remaining detentions. Pete, however, would not ‘talk with him’ at all, except to tell him he’s off the hook. 

‘That’s what I thought.’ Pete mumbled as he left. They still stayed on edge about every phone call and door knock for the next 3 or 4 months, though, not putting it past the woman to call CPS anyway. 

‘Oh. I thought with the make-up and all he might be…’  
‘Gay?’ Joe nodded.  
‘Nah, but he’s not the type to be offended if someone thinks that. He just hates the thought that people think he’s taking advantage of me.’  
‘He doesn’t seem like the type.’  
‘He’s not.’  
‘So what about Andy? I mean, what’s he like? We haven’t talked much.’  
‘He’s pretty cool. He’s not hugely talkative until you really get to know him. He’s into drumming and star wars.’ Star wars? So the guy was a huge nerd. At least they had that in common.  
‘Why, you like him?’  
‘What? I’m not gay.’ He realized as the words left his mouth how totally homophobic that sounded.  
‘You’re blushing though.’  
‘Look, maybe I am, okay, but you can’t tell anyone, please. I don’t want to get kicked out again.’  
‘You got kicked out for being gay?’ Joe nodded. That wasn’t the sole reason, but it was still the crux of the matter.  
‘Like making you homeless is gonna make you straight.’ Patrick quipped.  
‘Yeah, well, can we pretend that I am?’  
‘Pete won’t care you know. I don’t care, and Andy certainly won’t care.’  
‘What does that mean?’  
‘He’s about as straight as his hair, before the flat irons.’ Patrick would never have outed him as pan if he hadn’t always said that he ‘didn’t give two shits who knew because it doesn’t fucking matter. Orientation is a part of you, it’s not the whole package’.  
‘Oh.’  
‘Yeah,’ Patrick smiled, ‘Oh.’  
Joe tried to ignore the way his heartbeat picked up at that. It’s still never going to happen he tried to remind himself. It was already too late. He blushed furiously the next morning as he saw Andy coming back from a work-out, still sweaty and pulling his t-shirt off over his head to throw in the washer.  
‘Oh, hey Joe.’  
‘Hey.’  
Joe hid away in his room and tried to ignore the feeling he got whenever Andy smiled at him like that by beating up his pillow and reminding himself with every blow that Andy. Will. Never. Want. Him. 

The next night his mother called and asked him where he was. He told her he was staying at a friend’s place and his mom said his father wanted him home.  
‘What, so he can kick me out again the second I piss him off? Mom, I can’t live with that over my head. It isn’t fair.’  
‘He won’t,’ she argued, ‘He’s your father.’  
‘He will. The minute I breathe wrong, he’ll throw me back out, then what am I going to do?’  
‘Stay here like you have been.’ Joe hadn’t seen Pete walk in.  
‘Who’s that Joe? Joseph?’  
‘It’s Pete, the guy I’m staying with. Don’t worry, he’s not a serial killer-anymore. He’s retired.’ He really missed his mom.  
‘Can I talk to him?’ Joe held the phone out to Pete.  
‘It’s my mom. She wants to talk to you.’  
‘Sure.’ Joe walked away. He knew from previous experience how this conversation would go. She would ask Pete to take care of him and say she’s working on getting his dad to be reasonable.

It was a whole hour later when Pete sought him out to return his phone.  
‘What’d she say?’  
‘Not much, just that she wants whatever is best for you and you can stay here so long as you’re safe. Then I talked to your dad.’ Joe’s eyes went wide.  
‘I can’t go back. He’s been holding over my head that as soon as I’m sixteen, I’m out.’  
‘He’s not happy that you’re here. He said he wants you back home now because you’re still his son and you’re not sixteen yet, and if I didn’t bring you home, he’d call the cops.’ Technically, the police could make him go back, but its three days anyway and then he’s back out on his ass. Pete would take him back, but he’d rather save this kid the trouble, and truthfully, he’d rather not attract attention to Neverland. He’s not exactly registered, licensed, or legal. The whole point of this place is to save kids from the system, not to become a part of it. 

‘Of course he did. He likes to throw his weight around. He forces me to come home so he can throw me out again. It wouldn’t be the first time.’ Joe confesses. His dad had once woken him up when he was sleeping on the porch to drag him inside out of embarrassment. Joe thinks his dad didn’t expect him to still be there in the morning. He was fifteen-where was he supposed to go?  
‘Well, I told him if he wanted you to go to school he should send me a copy of your birth certificate so I can get you enrolled in one that’s closer. He told me if you want to go to school you can go home and back to the school you’re enrolled in.’ Another control tactic. Great. He wasn’t even allowed to have his own identity documents or an education now. He thought he might finally be out from under his dad’s thumb. 

‘When I told him you were staying he threatened to call the cops again. I asked him what he thought they would make of child abandonment and the fact they haven’t called you in three days to find out where you are or if you’re alright.’ Pete’s experience was starting to pay off.  
‘What did he say to that?’ Joe’s dad didn’t take kindly to threats, even if they were totally correct.  
‘Just some stuff that proved you’re better off here. But he’s agreed to give you your birth certificate, you just have to go and pick it up. I’ll take you.’ Pete added the last bit when he saw the look on Joe’s face at ever having to return.  
‘Thanks.’ He thinks his dad won’t do anything in front of someone else. He’s been proved wrong on that before, but maybe things are different now. 

In 4 days, when he’s sixteen, Pete takes him home. His mother is waiting on the front porch with his birth certificate and a duffel bag of Joe’s clothes.  
‘How are you? Are you safe? You’ve been eating?’  
‘Fine, yes, and yes. That’s Pete in the car.’ They turned to face him in the driveway and he lifted his fingers from the wheel as a wave.  
‘How do you know him?’  
‘He’s my friends brother. Patrick, from the bookstore.’ He pretended like he’d mentioned him before.  
‘Your father loves you.’  
‘He doesn’t. You know I never believed that.’  
‘Well, I do, and I want what’s best for you. I’m going to try to leave him soon. Your brother will be fine. He doesn’t need me like you do right now.’ Joe’s brother had been the golden child in his dad’s eyes. He was in no danger here.  
‘I know you love me. That’s why you stayed. But if you leave with me…’ They both knew what would happen to her. Joe’s dad had made that perfectly clear almost all of his life.  
‘You’re my son, he can’t do this to you. I told him if you leave, I’m gone too.’  
‘Mom. It’s done. You can’t change his mind. He’s just looking for a scape goat, so be careful, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.’ Joe hugged his mother.  
‘These are your clothes, it’s everything, all washed and dried. If there’s anything else you want, let me know and I’ll get it to you when your father’s not around. Oh, I’ll get your guitar, I know what it means to you.’ She did, quickly, while his father was still asleep. ‘Here’s all my savings your father doesn’t know about. It’s the least I can do; take it, please.’ Joe was hesitant to accept the money. He’d known for a while that she’d wanted to leave, and in taking this money, he was sealing her fate. Now she couldn’t even get out alone.  
‘Mom, no. I have somewhere to go. You don’t. You’re gonna need this when you leave.’  
‘He’ll only take it if he finds it. Look after yourself, and call me sometimes. I’m sorry, baby. I love you.’  
‘I love you too.’ He pocketed the cash and the birth certificate. ‘It’s not your fault, Mom. I don’t…I never blamed you, okay?’ He hugged her again, quickly as he heard his dad get up and start stomping around the house. Things wouldn’t be any better for his mom if she was caught talking to him right now, no matter what his dad said about coming home. He dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘Call me when he’s not around. Be careful, alright? I love you. Bye Mom.’  
‘Bye honey, I love you too.’ She whispered frantically before closing the door softly as to not let on that anyone was there. He heard her spinning some crap about Jehovah’s Witnesses as he picked up the bag and guitar case and crept down the stairs to meet Pete by the car. They put his stuff in the boot, closed it quietly and then rolled backwards out of the drive before Pete put the car into gear.  
‘Everything ok?’ Joe realized a tear had made its way down his cheek and wiped it away.  
‘Everything’s fine.’ It was hard to leave his mom behind, knowing as he did that she was his dad’s next favorite target. Maybe he’d go easier on her now that Joe was out of the way. He was the thorn in his side, not his mom. 

‘Patrick’s old school is pretty good about things. They won’t question that we’re not related, so long as you got the certificate. Did you?’  
‘Yeah.’  
‘Sorry about that. It’s just safer than going through my documents guy. Too many reissued certificates is going to raise flags.’  
‘You have a documents guy?’ Joe would soon learn that when it came to Pete, some questions were better left unanswered.  
‘A document forger, anyway.’ Good to know. When they returned, Andy took Joe’s stuff to his room and Patrick got them both a bowl of ice-cream, and that sat listening to records in the sun room.  
‘How was it?’  
‘Rough. There’s no way my mom can get out now. I don’t know what will happen to her.’ Two more years and he would have been in college and out. That’s two more years that he could detract his dad’s attention from her. ‘At least when I was there, my dad didn’t…’ Hit her is on the tip of his tongue. He wipes his eye, claiming dust. Patrick sits his bowl down and puts his arm around Joe, tugging him into his chest.  
‘Come on, Joe, you didn’t have a choice. You can’t save someone else.’ Yes, you can, Joe thinks.  
‘You saved me.’  
‘Sometimes people have to save themselves.’ But Joe knows his mom won’t. She’s been too busy sacrificing herself for most of his life, and there’s too much at stake if she leaves. Joe loses it then, actually crying into Patrick’s sweater. Patrick just strokes his hair and soothes him, and when he’s quiet again he says ‘Eat your ice cream’ like nothing ever happened. Joe wipes at his cheeks and picks up his own bowl, and they eat in silence.  
‘It’s cute, isn’t it?’ Andy mumbles to Pete as they stand in the doorway, watching. ‘Like a couple of brothers.’ Pete just smiles back before knocking on the door. Patrick and Joe look startled.  
‘Wanna jam?’ They play the rest of the day away until Patrick has to work and Pete has some calls to make. It does give Joe and Andy some time to hang out though, so Joe isn’t complaining.  
‘How was the rally, the other night?’  
‘Oh, it was great. Matt had the best sign; he’s so passionate about human rights.’ Ok, so maybe Andy was gushing, but he admired his friend.  
‘Is he your…boyfriend?’ Joe tried to sound disinterested.  
‘Matt? He’s straight as a pin, so, no. We’re just friends.’ That was good to know. No it wasn’t, it didn’t mean anything. Just because Andy wasn’t with Matt, didn’t mean-‘I have a boyfriend though. Pete.’  
‘Pete?’ Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Andy cracked then.  
‘Your face! I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. No, I’m not seeing anyone. How about you? Some pretty cheerleader or something?’  
‘No, I don’t think so. I’m more into the football team.’ He felt a little shy as he made that admission.  
‘The captain? The quarterback?’  
‘The running back. He found out and beat the crap out of me.’ He would never forgive Janie in art class for telling her brother he liked him.  
‘I got beat up and thrown into the dumpster once. Asshole jocks thought they were being funny. It gets worse though-it was the basketball team.’ Joe tried, and failed not to laugh.  
‘Since when do the basketball team beat anyone up?’  
‘Since I was hooking up with the Point Guard and we got busted by like, the whole team.’ Andy laughed. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t have made out in the showers.’  
‘He always forgets to mention it’s the girls team that beat him up.’ Pete was hanging up his phone as he walked in.  
‘Thank you, Peter. That’s helpful to my masculinity. Which is a bullshit social construct anyway, but you know.’ Andy grumbled. ‘Besides, you were a jock. How many kids did you throw in dumpsters?’  
‘You were a jock? With all the eyeliner and the flat irons? Really?’ Joe can’t keep the surprise from his voice.  
‘No, I’ll have you know I went emo AFTER high school.’ Pete corrected.  
‘Like that makes it better’ Andy quipped, turning to Joe ‘be thankful you haven’t seen him in the shorts.’  
‘There’s shorts?’ Joe wondered if he really wanted to ask.  
‘Yes, and that’s a tragedy of epic proportions. Even if they make his butt look good.’ Andy flashed his teeth in the brightest smile he could muster as Pete blushed.  
‘In that case, you’ll have to show me sometime.’ Pete and Andy both shot Joe a strange look. Was he hitting on Pete? ‘Kidding. That’s like checking out my dad. Ugh.’ He shuddered as Pete and Andy cracked up. 

That night, or rather the next morning, Pete woke Joe up.  
‘Hey, get dressed.’ What the fuck? Regardless, Joe did as he was told and then followed Pete into the living room, where Patrick and Andy were pulling on coats.  
‘Is this an initiation or something? Can’t you just shave my head and let me go back to sleep?’  
‘No. There’s a place we want to show you.’ Andy says.  
‘Shave your head? What the hell?’ Patrick’s muttering to himself as he hands Joe his coat.  
‘So, where is it?’  
‘That’s the secret. Family tradition.’ Pete smiles. They take the short cut and end up at the diner.  
‘Uhm, a diner? Couldn’t we go at a normal hour? It’s 3 am.’  
‘No, and we’re already late.’ Patrick explains.  
‘Besides, Meg isn’t here at a normal hour.’ Andy teases. Pete blushes and opens the door.  
‘Meg?’  
‘You’ll see.’ Patrick promises.  
‘So this place is kind of special,’ Andy starts as they slide into a booth, ‘We come in, no later than three (that’s when breakfast starts), we sit in this booth, every time. That waitress, Meg, starts the IV drips-‘  
‘We’re caffeine addicts’ Patrick fills in.  
‘Then she flirts with Pete, knows what we’re going to order, and that’s the story of our late-night adventures.’ Andy finishes with a smile. He’s reminded of the night Patrick showed it to him, and Patrick of the first night with Pete.  
‘And where do I fit in?’  
‘Ooh, fresh meat. Hey there, I’m Meg, I’ll be your waitress this morning. How’s things, Scrappy, Subtle, Scary?’  
‘Oh, the nicknames. We forgot about those.’ Patrick said. ‘Meg here doesn’t go for the scrappy type. That would be Pete. I’m subtle for not actually being subtle and Andy’s scary, because, well, look at him.’ Andy stuck his tongue out at Patrick, who mirrored the action.  
‘You must be special. It’s been a long time since they’ve initiated anyone. Not once since subdued.’ There’s a quiet moment, then she  
looks Pete up and down, a searching look on her face.  
‘What are you doing?’ Pete asks. ‘Seeing what you’re missing out on?’  
‘Trying to find where you keep the flute, actually. You’re the pied piper, right? Lure the town’s children away?’  
‘Peter Pan, actually.’ Pete winks. She shakes her head with a smile and Patrick, Andy and Joe try to stifle their laughter.  
‘What’ll it be, boys? Waffles and syrup for Scrappy, short stack for Subtle, toast with jam for Scary. Scruffy?’ He settles for the Texas cut cinnamon toast and thinks he might just feel at home here after all.


End file.
